


I think this time i'm dying

by aromanticanti



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Angst, Asthma, Gen, Griangst, Not Beta Read, Trans Character, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:33:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aromanticanti/pseuds/aromanticanti
Summary: grian has an asthma attack and reflects(?)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75





	I think this time i'm dying

**Author's Note:**

> so as you may have seen in the tags this is a vent fic and unlike my other vent fics its actually about my asthma (which is worsened by the fact i unhealthily bind not even with a binder) and the fact that i don't have an inhaler because my mom refuses to get me a new one.
> 
> basically i like projecting 
> 
> also i really hope the formatting worked or i will cry
> 
> also also cw for death and unhealthy binding mentioned !!

He couldn’t breathe.

Or, well, it felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t even doing anything strenuous like moving loads of heavy shulker boxes or doing tricks while flying or even building. He was just organizing a bit of his chests and his breathing started getting funky.

Of course he had ignored it at first in favor of organizing the chest monster which he can admit had gotten a little bit out of hand, but soon just a bit of wheezing and shortness of breath turned into him desperately trying to take in any air he could but somehow managing to only grab a few short gulps.

He really wished he had an inhaler.

He used to have one, back in high school and in evo before he got taken by the watchers who must have done some weird magic shit to get rid of his asthma. But since he wasn’t with them anymore the asthma was back and he didn’t have an inhaler anymore, having lost it when he was taken by the watchers.

He wasn’t even sure any of the hermits knew about his asthma.

That’s what left him now sitting with his back against one of his many shulker boxes barely drawing in enough breath to stay conscious. He thought about asking the others if any of them had an inhaler or any other thing to help but quickly brushed it off.

Even if he was coherent enough to write a message in chat, he didn’t want to embarrass himself. Surely you’d think he’d have an inhaler by now, he’s been with the hermits for almost three and half years, why hadn’t he asked for one before.

He knew that at least one of the hermits had something to help him and yeah it was definitely tempting to ask scar if he had a spare or if one of the redstoners had some contraption or even a potion, he didn’t want to be a hassle either.

So he dealt with the pain and fear of not being able to breathe other than in very short and wheezy pants.

He absolutely resented this, he had no choice but to sit with his head rested between his knees, waiting, begging for this to pass so he could breathe semi normally again and get back to organizing.

He thought with a slight bitterness that his binder probably made his asthma worse as well. Back in high school he almost never took his binder off which caused some damage to his ribs and made his asthma so much worse than it was. But by the time evo came around his ribs were so messed up he just couldn’t wear it anymore, even though he almost needed to because of his dysphoria, he couldn’t. The watcher’s had fixed his ribs when they took him though, probably the same way they fixed his asthma, and he didn’t need to wear the binder because he could hide his chest with magic.

Now though, he was without that magic and back to wearing his binder an unhealthy amount. He didn’t keep on at all times like in high school but he definitely wore it for longer than the recommended eight hours at a time.

That doesn’t mean he’ll stop though.

While he knows the hermits wouldn’t judge him for his asthma, or for what his body looks like, he just couldn’t bring himself to ask for help or to come out to the hermits. 

_Grian died from an asthma attack ___

__After what felt like agonizing hours finally his body succumbed to the lack of oxygen making it’s way to his brain and he died, respawning rather quickly from a death that he’d think would make for a tougher respawn. Ignoring his communicator dinging he thanked the fact he had slept recently on the bed _inside _of his mansion and he just rolled over and fell asleep with a few wheezing breathes._ _ __


End file.
